Fluff
by Midori Akiko
Summary: Yoruichi and Urahara have a quick captain's meeting. Set somewhere in the TBTP arc.


I know, it's a lame title, but I couldn't think of anything better, and this is basically fluff anyway.

I think the rating's appropriate, let me know it I'm wrong.

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"Kisuke, told you, I'm trying to finish this—" Yoruichi's sentence was cut off as she fell into a fit of giggles.

"But Yoru-san, you know I love this smell, and it's strongest here." He exhaled forcefully on the area right below her ear, causing Yoruichi to laugh and try to push him away. "It's not my fault you're so ticklish," he laughed.

"And you're ticklish here," he followed with a kiss on her neck, "and here," a kiss on her shoulder, "and here," with a kiss on the side of her breast. She gave him a quick shove.

"Not here you idiot, who knows who's watching now?" She quickly looked around her office, staring at the slightly open door, before looking away, satisfied no one was there.

"Oh come on, no one's there, you sent them all out for drills anyway," Urahara replied, once again resuming his advances. He reached from behind her, slipping his hands into her skimpy uniform and began rubbing slow, soft circles on her smooth stomach.

"If there's one thing I hate about this uniform," she thought to herself, "it's how easy it is for him to get into my pants."

"Hey wait," she looked up, "shouldn't you be at drills too?" Urahara chuckled.

"Clearly all this paperwork is getting to your head. Have you forgotten that it is no longer your third seat molesting you, but the new captain of the Twelfth Squad?"

"Ahh," she sighed, leaning back into him, "that's right. Which means I no longer have to worry about the time. Well, in that case…."

Yoruichi dropped the brush she was holding and pushed back into Urahara, knocking the wind out of his lungs and causing him to fall onto his back. Using her momentum she rolled over backwards, over Urahara, until she was sitting on her knees.

Yoruichi looked down upon his confused face. "I'm calling a Captain's meeting right now," she whispered.

"Oh?" he responded. "Who else is coming to this meeting?"

"No one," she said as she bent over his face, comprehension beginning to dawn on him.

Yoruichi planted a kiss on his forehead, moving down further until their lips met. She loved the taste of him, of the sake he drank that morning and the salt from his meal. She inhaled after one of their more lengthy kisses. She didn't know what it was, but Kisuke had a smell. Something indescribable to her other than the fact that she loved it. When she woke up before he did after their nights together, she was content to simple lay there with her eyes closed and be surrounded by his scent.

Urahara pulled Yoruichi down, until that she was on her elbows, their lips still locked. These were the times he loved best. Oh, it was great to spend the night together and all, but there was something so exhilarating about using forbidden work time for "fun."

Their lips finally separated; Yoruichi still on her stomach with her feet up, Urahara laying on his back, one hand in Yoruichi's hair.

Yoruichi was intoxicating to him, inaccessible and unobtainable. Not because she was a princess or nobility or a captain; he'd been around her so long he frequently forgot she was anything other that just Yoruichi. It was because she was so guarded with her emotions. He rarely saw a genuine smile from her; everyone saw her grins and laughs, but not her sincere smile. When she was content. Here he was though, looking up into it. Urahara closed his eyes, never wanting to forget that smile. He withdrew the hand in her hair, and began to slowly rub circles on the top of one of her hands.

Yoruichi rested her head on her unoccupied hand. She looked down at Kisuke, perfectly satisfied. He was the one person she felt comfortable with. He was the only person who didn't care about her titles. He cared only about what she thought and felt.

How long they stayed like that, they didn't know, both perfectly happy at that moment. Yoruichi watching Urahara as he napped, the way his chest rose and fell, and he grateful to be near her warmth. If only every meeting were like this.

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What do you think? Criticisms, opinions appreciated! Thanks!


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